The Admirable Eustace Butler
by Deep Forest Green
Summary: A oneshot about Rhett's childhood and relationship with his father.


A character study of Rhett's father, using canon and my own imagination. I have not read Rhett Butler's People and have no plans to do so, so this is purely based off of GWTW. I believe that Rhett's father is crucial to shaping who Rhett becomes later on, and I wanted to explore the conflict in Rhett's formative years that caused him to reject high society in the first place.

* * *

Eustace Anthony Butler was a tall, thin man with long, bony finger, pinched lips, sunken cheeks, a hawk nose, and a pair of bifocals over his piercing gray eyes. His silver hair was neatly combed into a solid helmet-like mass, except for a stray cowlick that crossed from the right side of his forehead to the left. He looked a great deal like the photographs of Jefferson Davis that would exist in thirty years. He was always seen with a walking stick, which was topped with a handle of pure silver carved with the heads of two roaring lions.

Despite his harsh, daunting appearance, Eustace had a reputation for being affable and charming. At dinner parties he would regale the guests with anecdotes of his service in the War of 1812, in which he had been an admiral. These tales were frequently interrupted by the ladies with exclamations of "Were you injured?" and "Oh, you must have been terribly brave!", as well as humorous personal yarns which people begged to hear even after they'd already heard them a dozen times. Eustace hosted as many social gatherings as he attended, and he spared no expense for the pleasure of his guests. Mr. Butler made his false modesty and compliment-fishing seem the most endearing qualities a gentleman could possess, but his family knew a darker side of him. For Eustace had a dark secret, and his greatest fear was that someone would discover it.

Eustace Butler was one of the wealthiest men in Charleston, but where his wealth had come from was a question he did not want asked. Most of the Charleston elite had been that way for generations, even centuries, sometimes dating back to their English ancestors. They were fascinated with bloodlines and pedigrees and so forth, and since Eustace Butler could provide no such thing, this raised the question of how he had become so fabulously rich before he became a shipper and plantation owner. Eustace always answered this by saying that his father had been the captain of a trading ship, but had been killed in a skirmish with pirates. This story always elicited sympathy and admiration from the listener. And best of all, it wasn't even completely false. Eustace had gentlemanly instincts, but he was also practical. He didn't like to lie, but when he had to, he always based his lie on a grain of truth. And in this case, he felt that he had no choice but to lie. Mr. Butler's father had been killed by pirates, that part was true; but what he left out was that he had been a pirate himself.

What Eustace did not realize was that Charleston would have forgiven him if he had told the truth. In their eyes, anything unsavory in his past- or his family's past, which was the same thing- had been redeemed by his total assimilation into the culture of old money. But even so, he wanted insurance. He wanted something respectable to fall back on in case Charleston ever learned the truth about his father.

Madeline Kensington was a British ingénue, the daughter of an earl, who lived the first fifteen years of her life in a country house twenty miles north of London. She had been sent to America for the sole purpose of finding a husband, because her father wanted to form an alliance with a wealthy Charlestonian so he could get his foot in the door of the trans-Atlantic trade market. Although she was not beautiful- pale skin bordering on albinism, plump face, stringy black hair with a pronounced widow's peak, beady black eyes- she was exactly what Eustace was looking for. Within two months of their first encounter they were engaged, and scarcely a year after that they were married. Madeline's parents came to America for the wedding, and her father congratulated Eustace for marrying into such a prestigious family and suggested, in a rather offhand way, that he might be interested in entering the shipping industry. He would even sell Eustace a couple of boats to get him started. Eustace thanked his new father-in-law for his generous offer, but before he could think of entering business he first had to buy a house. But of course, said the earl, a large house to shelter your extensive family.

On May 19, 1825, Avalon was completed. It was an architechural extension of Eustace's personality- large, elegant, and intimidating. He had chosen the name as a tribute to the stories of King Arthur and his knights that he had loved so much as a child, and as a salute to the British side of his soon-to-be family. And the house really did feel like a lost island. It had a balcony which surrounded the entire second floor, and from the back you could see the pier where Mr. Butler's ships were docked in the harbor. He had a spiral staircase with a thick marble railing and a maroon velvet carpet. At the top of the staircase was a commissioned oil painting of Eustace Butler looking quite regal in a jet-black suit, twice as tall as the man himself and (counting the bronze frame) three times as heavy. Next to it was a portrait of Madeline for good measure. The whole place was dark, serious and foreboding, and on cloudy days it seemed very stern, as if the walls were looking in upon its inhabitants with cold judgment.

Neither of the Eustace Butlers was very fond of children, but the husband actively despised them, especially girls. Children were stupid and uncultured, he declared, and he would have no part in raising them. But his yearning to be accepted eventually beat out his distaste for children, and in 1826, Regina Eleanor Butler was born. Eustace beat his wife because their first child had not been a boy, and demanded that they try again that very night. Next year, they had another daughter named Rosemary Guinivere, and Eustace beat his wife even more savagely. He was growing impatient for an heir. He never thought that he could want a son this badly, but he did. Meanwhile, Madeline was already beginning to lose strength from her pregnancies, and only the Lord knew how many more she could withstand. Eustace threatened to drown any more girls she gave him.

Finally, in 1828, Madeline Kensington Butler gave birth to a son. The boy was named Rhett after a friend of Madeline's father, and his middle name was Kensington at his mother's insistence. For once, Eustace was too overjoyed to deny her request. A beautiful, healthy baby boy!

Eustace's joy and relief were short-lived, however. His heir apparent was nothing like he had anticipated. As soon as the boy could talk, he walked underfoot at dinner parties, telling jokes and pulling pranks, widening his big black eyes in a way that made the adults say, "Oh, isn't he adorable?". Eustace was jealous of his son's facility with charm, and he was loath to admit that young Rhett was now the life of every social gathering among Charleston gentry. He would put on plays with his sisters in the dining hall, and all the ladies swarmed Madeline after the dinner to remark on how precocious he was and try to set up a play date with him for their own children. But Rhett did not like play dates. He did not like other children except for his sisters, and Madeline told the ladies as much. To which they replied with ill-concealed bitterness, "Well, you can't expect a child that popular with adults to get along well with his peers."

One night, when Rhett had played one prank too many at the supper table, his father snapped. "Young man," he said, leaning over the table with his hands bracing his lean body, "go upstairs this instant. You are upsetting the ladies and it is well past your bedtime. If you keep up this puerile behavior for much longer, you will never become a gentleman."

Of course, all the ladies immediately rushed to Rhett's defense, saying things like "Boys will be boys", but Eustace would hear none of it. Rhett bolted up the stairs, loudly crying. The dining hall was deathly silent for a moment, and all eyes were on Eustace, waiting for him to see that he had been too harsh and invite Rhett back to the supper table. But all he said was, "Rosemary, Regina, you go upstairs too. And I don't want you to even look at your brother."

Rhett had a very close bond with his older sisters, especially Rosemary. They were very protective of each other, taking sides with their mother against their father. It was sort of a game to them- see how long it takes to gang up on Father before he snaps. But though the game was fun, it seldom achieved the desired effect. For Eustace Butler cared about the opinions of everyone in Charleston- except those of the people living under his own roof.

Eustace and Madeline had one more child, a son named Robert, who survived past infancy. After that, Madeline bore a stillborn son named Richard, a daughter named Ruth who died shortly after birth, and finally a miscarriage. The doctor said another attempt at children would surely be fatal for both mother and child. Instead of gaining weight with each pregnancy, Madeline was losing weight. The couple was both frightened and relieved. Certainly four children were enough.

After the miscarriage, Madeline was so weak she had to stay in bed for six whole months. This six-month period was crucial for the children, because during their mother's convalescence, they became very close to their mammy.

Rhett's mammy was a thin, beautiful girl, scarcely ten years older than Regina. She was skilled at card games and played them with Rhett often, helping him perfect his (already brilliant) poker face. Card games came naturally to the nine-year-old, and poker was his absolute favorite. When he asked her how a negro woman knew so much about cards, she replied, "You gotsa promise tuh keep it uh secret, 'specially from yo' mama."

"I promise," he said eagerly.

"Ev'rythin' Ah knows 'bout playin' cahds Ah learnt from yo' papa. He's got his down points, yo' pa, but he right good at cahds. Ah 'specs you knew that already. Ah been watchin' him wid his gempmum friends fur years an' it sho' seems like he win ev'ry han'. Sumtimes Ah even play wid him."

Eight months later, Mammy had her first child, a girl whose skin was a few shades lighter than Mammy's. Madeline was still too weak to notice such things, but Mammy had no more children after that for several years, and when she did, they were as dark as Mammy. Rhett had a vague notion that this little girl was his half-sister, but he never gave it much thought except as further proof that his father was unworthy of his affection. He felt sure that his mammy had not consented to this affair, and that she spoke glowingly of his father only because she feared his reprisal if he overheard her say anything less than complimentary about him. Rhett respected his mammy too much to believe that she was willing party to his father's perverse desires. Like his mother, Mammy was helpless in the face of both Eustace's wrath and Rhett's charm, and she too possessed a "Boys will be boys" philosophy.

When Rhett was fifteen, he went to his first ball. Just as he had been able to charm his mother's friends at the dinner table, he found, so he could charm the young belles. Avalon's reception hall also functioned as a ballroom, so he often had the home-turf advantage as well. As the handsome, charming firstborn son of one of Charleston's wealthiest men, poised to inherit the estate as well as several profitable stocks, he had many marriage prospects. His father was anxious for him to be married as soon as possible. His sisters had both married at sixteen and were, thank God, living somewhere else and were someone else's problem. But Rhett was in no hurry to settle down. He said he saw no reason why he should get married, now or ever, and that even if he did, he certainly wouldn't find the right girl in Charleston because all Charleston girls were ninnies. Yes, even Rosemary and Regina. They have their whole lives ahead of them, and what do they do? They resign themselves to wasting away the rest of their lives tied down to men they don't even particularly like, just to please you, and you likely won't even live another twenty years. A remark for which Eustace simply had no words.

It did not really occur to Rhett Butler that women did not have the same agency as men in the society in which he lived. If he could make such decisions for himself, have such independence and freedom, then surely a woman could assert herself too without fear. In this regard, he was enlightened and backwards at the same time.

Eustace decided that what his son needed was discipline. He needed to be away from girls and for once, his mother agreed. The level of structure that Rhett needed was not something they were equipped to provide. So, on a rainy day in 1846, the Butlers sent their eldest son to the West Point Military Academy.

The seven months that followed were the worst in yet in the eighteen-year-old cadet's life. Not having girls around him was the least of his woes. He had no freedom, no friends, and no fun. Even in his room, he never had a moment's privacy, because solitude was seen as the enemy of structure and discipline. And in the military, there was only one thing to do with an enemy.

Rhett did not write any letter to his parents. He thought that would be weak. He did not even read the letters that they wrote to him. Instead, from the first day he arrived there, he began plotting how he would get himself expelled. He wanted to get expelled for something embarrassing, something that would shame his parents and make them regret their decision to send him there. He had no thought for his own reputation, he simply wanted to see the humiliation on his father's face when someone asked him why his son had been expelled from the most presitigious military school in the land. Yes, Rhett may still have been a minor, trapped in a place he hated with no one he could turn to, but he had the power to put a black mark on his father's pristine record for the rest of his life. He could make Eustace Butler pay for all the gried he had caused him and his siblings over the years. He could give that arrogant cad a taste of his own medicine. And even if it ruined his own reputation, it would still be worth it.

Rhett chose his moment carefully to exact maximum humiliation. He bided his time, like an alligator lurking in muddy water, toeing the line lest he be expelled for something trivial. It would never do to get anything less than a dishonorable discharge. He wanted his offense to be not only humiliating and scandalous, but public as well. That way, there would never be any doubt that he had done it, and his parents would have no recourse, no opportunity for rebuttal. After all, if his father could get away with abuse and adultery at home, maybe it was just as well that someone was pulling back the curtain on the Butler household.

He chose the Officers' Ball, the one night when ladies would be present. His father had told him once that any offense was doubly grievous when done in the presence of ladies, and that the greatest dishonor a gentleman could commit, the thing that would eradicate all his claims upon gentlemanhood, was indicating that he wanted to have carnal relations with a woman not his wife. After reflecting on the irony and hypocrisy of this statement coming from Eustace, he formed his plan. With these teachings in the back of his mind, the newly anointed Captain Butler- he had risen very quickly through the ranks- stepped into the ballroom, scouring the crowd for a young lady deserving to share in his shame. His eyes alighted upon a tall brunette in a bright ochre taffeta ballgown, standing by the refreshments table scanning the room for a dance partner.

He never knew why he had decided it should be her. She was not very pretty or otherwise captivating. When he beckoned to her from across the floor, she rushed towards him as if he were the first man she had seen all year.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Lois Waldon," she replied eagerly, with a nervous curtsy.

So she had a name. That made it harder, didn't it? Lois Waldon. This was the girl whose life he was about to ruin for his own selfish and petty purposes. "That is a lovely name, Miss Waldon," he said truthfully, taking her by the hand. "May I have this dance?"

"Certainly," she said, blushing to her ears, "but I must know your name and rank if I am to dance with you."

"A reasonable request," he said, and told her.

The two of them danced for what felt like hours. She was a good dancer, for all her nervousness and fundamental ignorance about men. She told him about her friends and her family and how excited she was about attending an Officers' Ball and getting such a handsome dance partner on her first round.

But her couldn't do it.

Lois Waldon never knew what she had so narrowly avoided or just how narrowly she had avoided it. She walked away from that ballroom thinking that Captain Rhett Butler had been the perfect gentleman and how fortunate she had been to meet him. But he couldn't ruin someone who was clearly so naïve. She had a face, a backstory, and because of that, he had been unable to make his hand tap the fork against the wineglass to get everyone's attention, couldn't make his lips move to say the words "Will you step outside with me, just for a minute?". His chance had escaped him, and his next opportunity would not come for another three months. He couldn't wait that long.

That was the last time he ever let his conscience get in the way of his designs. So what if she had a name, a face? Everyone did. They trick was not to learn them so as not to form attachments.

Rhett Butler was finally expelled in May of 1847 for "gross misconduct" involving breaking curfew and sneaking out to see a lady, with a few insubordination charges thrown in for good measure. His parents were furious, and he felt a little guilty for humiliating his mother. After all, it was Eustace that he was really mad at, not her. But he regretted nothing. He only wished that the "lady" part had been more prominent in the written report.

For the first time in his life, he was facing his parents' wrath alone. His brother and sisters were gone, and his mammy would not defend him. His support system had left him and he was miserable. Not even his father's inability to show his face in public could cheer him up.

The girls had stopped coming to see him, just as his parents had warned him they would. All except one. Life's main diversion, women, was a thing of the past, but Chelsea Yarwick refused to believe that Rhett Butler was damaged goods. She snuck away to see him whenever she could, and as the months went by, their visits became more and more frequent. He had been one of her beaux before he had gone to West Point, and his absence had only served to make her heart grow fonder of him. One day, they went out buggy riding, and the rest is history. Eustace Butler did the only permissible thing- he disinherited and disowned his eldest son. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time, and now he had a good reason, now that his reputation was in shambles and his humiliation was complete.

On a bright summer day in 1848, Rhett Butler took one last look at Charleston from the train and made a solemn vow to himself that he would never again become dependent on another human being or care what anyone thought of him. With this vow, he created a callus on his soul that would endure for the next twenty-five years.


End file.
